


Checklist: The Bridal Party

by aac7



Series: Hilda & the Fawn [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aac7/pseuds/aac7
Summary: Hilda Valentine Goneril loves a good party. She loves love, too. Put the two together and what do you get? A wedding.After being blindsided by Claude and Byleth's engagement, Hilda is tasked with planning their wedding. What better place to start than with finding the perfect Maid of Honour and Best Man? It should be easy.Nothing is easy when Hilda is in charge.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: Hilda & the Fawn [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777594
Comments: 29
Kudos: 73





	1. The Contestants

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here!

Hilda was excited at first. She was entrusted with planning a wedding between her two best friends, otherwise known as the greatest love story she’d ever meddled in. Byleth and Claude, Professor and Duke, Queen of Fódlan and King of Almyra. The budget meeting alone made her feel lightheaded with glee. 

About a week after that meeting, however, she realized that they were the _Queen_ of Fódlan and the _King_ of Almyra. Hilda was in charge of planning the wedding of the century. The very wedding, Lorenz never failed to remind her, that would represent the first official act of unity between the two countries they hailed from.

No pressure. None at all. 

Being the leaders of two separate countries, the betrothed couple would not be as involved as they wished in the wedding planning. Hilda understood this, and made sure to convene with them both before she set off on this very special mission. She had her wedding binder out, and for once in her life, was ready for a meeting. She’d been adding to this very binder since the day she’d gotten stuck in Claude’s window. 

Hilda begins by setting the heavy binder on Byleth’s desk, then setting her notebook beside it, flexing her fingers before grabbing a quill. “Okay, before we start, we need a location. Anywhere specific in mind?” 

“The Locket,” they say at the same time, and Hilda is a little surprised. She thought it would be held in Garreg Mach or the Riegan Estate. The Locket wasn’t even on her list of potential wedding destinations.

“What? Why the Locket?” She questions, but she’s already thinking of the best rooms to clear and use.

“Well, we are planning on having guests from both Fódlan and Almyra,” Claude starts, leaning forward. “It’ll be easier for both sets of guests to travel. Also, the Locket has always been a symbol of division...We want to use our wedding to turn it into a symbol of unity.” Byleth nods beside him, and Hilda’s heart turns to mush at the sentiment. 

“That’s so sweet,” she gushes, scrawling ‘Locket’ in her notebook. “Given that my family is in charge of the Locket, we won’t have to make a booking. Now that we have a venue, we need a date. I need a timeline to work with to plan accordingly. I think six months should be a good amount of time to pull everything together. That would put us at…” Hilda counts ahead in her planner. “The Wyvern Moon. Autumn is a beautiful season at the Locket.” She can picture it already, sighing dreamily. “An outdoor ceremony under the beautiful golden foliage of the mountainside. Flower covered arches with Almyran pine accents, gentle tones of orange and red floral centrepieces, mulled wine served at the bar for the reception.” Wonderful. 

Hilda is about to start jotting down her ideas when Claude coughs, reminding her that this is not her wedding. “Oh, sorry,” she apologizes sheepishly, putting her quill down. “What did you have in mind? A year from now? I know you’re both busy.” 

Byleth’s gaze flicks between herself and Claude. “We were thinking the Blue Sea Moon, actually—”

Hilda immediately starts flipping forward in her planner. “About a year and a bit from now? That makes sense, there’s plenty of work to be done for you two. A summer wedding will be just as nice. We can set up some canopies and have the reception outside in the Locket’s gardens. Oh! We can even bring up some shells from Derdriu’s beaches for nice, summery centrepieces!” 

“Hilda,” Claude interrupts, and Hilda looks up at him expectantly. She could already picture him giving a speech in a clean, white and gold suit, Byleth beside him wearing a freely flowing white wedding dress of lace and— “We mean this year’s Blue Sea Moon. The 25th, to be exact.” 

Surely Hilda hadn’t heard him right. They were nearly halfway through the Great Tree Moon. They didn’t expect her to plan a wedding in barely three months? 

She looks between the couple in bewilderment. Claude doesn’t say, ‘just kidding’ and Byleth isn’t making her usual amused expression when Claude cracks a joke. They really do want her to plan the wedding of the century in such a short amount of time. 

Hilda feels a little bit of panic begin to bubble in her stomach, going over the checklist of things they need to get done. Which was everything. She hadn’t done anything except organize their guest list. “I—It’ll take me at least three months just to make your dress, not to mention the outfits for your entire wedding party. That doesn’t even include the accessories! I haven’t had time to make all the invitations...there’s nearly 300 of them! I still need to book the bands and choirs. I haven’t even thought of who to hire to make your cake! Not to mention the gardeners and florists! Beautiful flowers don’t bloom in a snap, you know!” Her voice is high and squeaky now, so maybe she’s panicking a little more than a bit. 

“You know some of the money in the budget is for you to hire help, right?” Claude points out. “I’m sure you can hire some experienced seamstresses and stationers to help with garments and invitations.” 

“It also doesn’t have to be perfect, Hilda,” Byleth adds. “If it were up to us, it’d just be a simple ceremony with our friends and family, not some huge event. The only reason we’re having an event of this calibre is to celebrate and promote the newfound peace between Fódlan and Almyra.” 

Hilda groans loudly. “I know! But why does it have to be so soon?” A possibility dawns on her. “Are you pregnant or something? I would have never expected you to do this for propriety’s sake.” 

“I’m not pregnant,” Byleth cuts in, her cheeks crimson. “We just...we’ve waited almost seven months already. I guess—”

Claude takes Byleth’s hand in both of his, smiling brightly at her. “Why, Hilda,” he starts dramatically, and Hilda knows she’s in for a show. “When you’re engaged to the most beautiful woman in Fódlan—no offence—why wait another year to show your love for her? I have been waiting months to joyously bound myself to this woman, this goddess. I can’t possibly wait any longer. Does the setting sun—”

Byleth, never one to swoon over Claude’s sappy spiels, slaps a hand over his mouth, rolling her eyes. “As I was saying before I was interrupted by Sappy von Riegan, we’ve waited seven months already. Any longer will only hinder our ability to foster peace within and between our countries.” She removes her hand from Claude’s mouth, and he pouts at her. His lip doing the thing Hilda hates when he wants something from her. 

The sappy spiels may not work on Byleth, but the hurt puppy look sure does. “Also, I suppose it wouldn’t be horrible to be married to Sappy von Riegan,” she shrugs, and Claude grins triumphantly, kissing the back of her hand. 

“You’re the only one we think can do it in such a short amount of time,” Claude winks, and just like that, Hilda is won over. There’s no better way to get her to do something than feeding her praise. 

“Fine,” she grumbles, flipping to a free page in her notebook. “I guess I can’t complain with you two pulling on my heart strings like that. Now that we have a venue and date, I want to go over themes and colour palettes. It’ll be a summer wedding so I suggest these,” Hilda shows them the three sets of summer colour swatches in her binder. “Once we pick a palette, we can make a choice on the type of decor, and I can order some fabrics for the wedding garments.” 

She watches as the two peer down at the choices, both of them discussing it quietly amongst themselves. 

“Marigold and poppy red,” Claude decides, a proud and sure smile on his face.

However, at the same time, Byleth says, “Dove grey and ecru.” They turn to stare at each other, and Hilda sighs. 

Hilda slaps her forehead as the couple begin arguing over the swatches at opposite ends of her colour spectrum. Claude’s choice is fun, bright, and festive, while Byleth’s choice is more neutral and subdued, but elegant. 

If this meeting has proved anything, it’s that she wasn’t prepared for it at all, and planning this wedding is going to be a lot harder than she thought. 

“Hilda, what do you think?”

Oh _no_. 

  
  


__________

  
  
  


They end up going with dove grey and ecru. Byleth plays her cards well, responding to Claude’s arguments with a deep sigh and a trembling lip, staring up at him with those pale green eyes until he gives in. Hilda makes a mental note to remind herself that it’s too easy to get Claude to crack when Byleth is involved (she may or may not need some cute Almyran crystals for a necklace she’s making for Marianne). 

With a colour scheme agreed on, Hilda makes a few notes. “Okay. Give me a few days to work on some mock-up invitations. We want to get these invitations out as soon as possible. I’ll also draw up some garment sketches with the new colour scheme. I’ll also need the measurements, so next, let’s focus on the wedding party. Do you know who you’d like as maid of honour and best man? Bridesmaids? Groomsmen?”

They both shake their heads no, and Hilda sighs. They really don’t make anything easy for her, do they? “It’s too difficult a choice,” Byleth admits, and Claude nods in agreement. “We’re such good friends with everyone.” 

“Okay…” Hilda thinks for a moment. “Here,” she rips two pieces of paper from her notebook, handing them one each. “Bridesmaids and groomsmen are easy, but I want your top two choices for maid of honour and best man. They’re the most important roles in your party.” 

“How are you going to pick?” Claude asks, who despite not knowing who to pick, quickly jots down his two names, folding the paper and sliding it across the desk. 

Byleth slides her paper over. “I trust your judgement. I would be fine with either choice.”

Hilda takes the papers, finding herself equal parts pleased and surprised when she reads the names. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Your Majesties. I’ll take care of everything.” 

  
  
  


__________

  
  
  


**-The Briefing-**

Hilda slams her hands on the table, levelling an intense stare at the three people she’d gathered in Derdriu’s audience room. “I know you’re wondering why I’ve called you here today,” she starts, slowly walking around the front of the room. “The current situation is that the King and Queen, who you all now know are getting married, are without the two most important roles in their wedding party. Maid of Honour and Best Man. They’ve tasked me, Hilda Valentine Goneril, with the decisions. After careful consideration,” —a whole thirty seconds—“you three have made the cut. Congratulations.” 

Sylvain, Marianne, and Felix stare at her. Sylvain looks pleased, Marianne looks confused, and Felix looks annoyed. “Why are there three of us?” Marianne asks, looking around the room. “Isn’t there usually only one of each?” 

“Actually, there’s four of us.” Hilda corrects, writing ‘best man’ and ‘maid of honour’ on the chalkboard behind her. “I’ve also made the cut, and I’ve gathered you here to determine which two among the four of us will get the two most coveted spots in the royal couple’s bridal party.” 

Sylvain, who sits beside Felix, slaps a hand on the table. “I knew Claude liked me! Man, I’m so stoked. The lovely, powerful, and brilliant Hilda is totally going to pick me for the role.” She isn’t at all amused when Sylvain winks at her. Does he not realize that Marianne is in the same room as them? “Although, Felix,” he chuckles, clapping his friend on the back. “I’m surprised you’re in the running for Best Man. Remember how annoyed Claude was when your dad tried to marry you off to her? And the time when we were trying to make him jealous and you—oof!” He’s cut off by the sharp jab of Felix’s fist into his abdomen. 

“Thank you,” Hilda nods to Felix as Sylvain groans, doubling over. “He’d be unconscious if I hit him.” She continues on, ignoring the disapproving frown from her girlfriend. “Anyways, Felix isn’t the one running against you for Best Man,” turning to the chalkboard, she writes her and Sylvains names down under the title. “You’ll be going up against me.” 

Felix shifts in his seat, a deep frown on his face as he looks between Hilda and the board. “I’m…” 

“In the running for Maid of Honour, yes,” Hilda grins, biting back a laugh as she writes his and Marianne’s names on the board. She had to admit it wasn’t exactly unexpected, Hilda knew that Felix was one of Byleth’s closest friends. They trained together often, they enjoyed the same foods, and their sarcastic and sometimes snarky personalities lined up well, much to Claude’s annoyance. What surprised Hilda was that Byleth had actually put Felix’s name forward. To be the bride's right hand man on a highly emotional day? No matter how close they were, Felix ‘love is weakness’ Fraldarius wouldn’t even come close to qualifying for the part.

Marianne raises her hand. “Hilda...you said ‘going against,’ does that mean we’re competing against each other?” She questions, gesturing between her and a grumbling Felix. 

“That’s exactly what I mean, sweetie,” she coos, writing one, two, and three on the board. “A competition to see who will be the most suitable for the two roles. I’ll be the main judge for the Maid of Honour category, and Lysithea will be coming in to pick the Best Man. Here’s our categories,” she explains, scrawling then down on the board. “Speeches, bach party planning, and disaster control. You’ll be given a score of one to five on each category, and whoever has the highest score wins. Now,” Hilda shuffles her papers around, feeling excitement course through her veins. “Let’s see who has what it takes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, Sappy von Riegan tries to woo his fianceé using a collection of free verse poems - that he did NOT steal from lorenz - while she sharpens her god sword


	2. Speeches of Honour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The contestants deliver their best(?) speeches. 
> 
> or
> 
> Sylvain has several near death experiences in the span of a few minutes.

**-The Speeches-**

Later that day, the games begin. 

“Welcome, friend, lover, and idiot,” Hilda grins to Felix, Marianne, and Sylvain when they enter the gardens, where a group of their friends sit under the gazebos. Caspar, Dorothea, Petra, and Lysithea sat in their small audience, both to put a little pressure on the contestants, and to give Hilda some guest reactions to gauge. She had taken advantage of their presence in Derdriu for the latest Roundtable, and all of them were coerced into ‘an afternoon of entertainment in the gardens.’

When everyone is settled behind her, Hilda addresses the audience. “Welcome to the first ever Bridal Party Games. In an attempt to find the perfect Maid of Honour and Best Man for the royal wedding, I have put together an elaborate competition to ascertain who amongst the four of us has what it takes to rise to the roles. To fill these roles, one must be dedicated, sociable, decisive, have good leadership qualities, be able to think on their toes, and most importantly, be emotionally available to the bride or groom leading up to the special day.” She spins around to face said contestants. 

Not one of them entirely matched the description. Including her. 

Well, that was what this competition was for. 

“Okay,” she claps once, making Marianne jump. “Our first category of the night will be speeches! As Maid of Honour or Best Man, you must be able to deliver a moving, heartfelt speech to honour the bride and groom to congratulate them on finding true love.” Hilda hears a scoff behind her, and can already assume that Felix will lose. “Your speech for the competition doesn’t need to be too long, but it does have to portray some type of emotional effort.” 

“Felix, you’re up first,” she decides, whirling around and grabbing his wrist, yanking him forward. Felix groans loudly, crossing his arms over his chest like a defiant child with a bedtime. 

“I’m supposed to stand up here and spew some sappy romantic crap about ‘true love?’” He snaps, his face contorts in disgust, but he isn’t finished. “Love is weakness and an evolutionary mistake, a—”

“Weren’t you just making up some song lyrics for Annette yesterday?” Sylvain interrupts, and Felix’s eyes narrow dangerously at him, Sylvain laughing a little nervously in response. Hilda swears she sees Felix’s hand twitch towards his sword. They’ve hardly begun and there’s already a fight brewing. 

“You’re on thin  _ fucking _ ice, Sylvain,” he growls, but everyone sees the blush creep up his neck at the mention of a certain little mage. 

“It doesn’t have to be about true love,” Lysithea says carefully, trying not to further aggravate Felix, who was acting eerily similar to the grumpy cat that prowls the Estate’s grounds scratching people. “Start off with introducing yourself and mentioning your relationship with the couple. Then you can talk about your relationship with the Prof—er, Byleth, then talk about Claude, and tie it together by talking about them as a couple,” she explains, as if she wasn’t describing the most unnatural Felix thing to do— talk about his feelings. Assuming he had them, of course.

Why Byleth had thought Felix would be a good Maid of Honour, Hilda didn’t know, but it wasn’t her wedding. 

“Fine,” he huffs, snatching the wineglass Hilda is holding out for the mock toast. “Uh, my name is Felix Fraldarius, I know the couple through, um, the Officer’s Academy and the war, I guess,” he starts, his voice flat and devoid of any sentiment. 

“More feeling! Your voice is about as empty as one of Claude’s vials of stomach poison after tea with Lorenz,” Sylvain yells, and Hilda can tell it’s taking all of Felix’s restraint to not turn around and punch his friend in the throat. 

“The bride,” Felix continues through gritted teeth, his hand balled into a fist, “is a good training partner.” Out of the corner of her eye, Hilda sees Sylvain open his mouth, but immediately slaps a hand over it, waiting for Felix to finish. Felix may stab him, and Hilda doesn’t want to win by default. “She’s also...a good friend. I’ve learned from her, on and off the battlefield.” Hilda doesn’t hate it entirely, and judging by the way the audience is nodding, neither do they. “Claude is…” he trails off, eventually shrugging his shoulders. “He’s alright,” Felix settles on, and Hilda waits for more, but it doesn’t come. Not unexpected. “They work well together. I mean, we’re all alive so I suppose they did something right. Congratulations to the bride and groom. I hope neither of you get stabbed, because dealing with one of you without the other would be annoying.” It’s a very Felix ending, and Hilda knows she won’t force anything better out of him as she tallies up a score in her head.

“Great! Felix, I think I would give you a...3 out of 5. I know how hard that was for you, and I liked what you said about Byleth, but you didn’t talk about Claude enough. If you get picked, you need to work a smidge more emotion into your speech.” Felix simply glowers at her, taking his score and dropping himself into a nearby chair. Being nice probably takes a lot out of him. “Marianne, honey, you’re up next,” Hilda announces, gesturing for Marianne to step up next. 

Ever since Marianne had been given a position within Byleth’s Royal Court, she’s become much more confident not only in her ability to speak up, but to stand and speak in front of others. Hilda has every confidence that she would knock Felix’s score off the board. Marianne takes some paper out of her dress pocket (prepared, as always), and carefully unfolds it. She must have been writing since this morning’s briefing. 

“Hello, everyone. I’m Marianne,” she begins, her voice strong and clear. “The bride and groom are both very good friends of mine. I first met Byleth back in the Officer’s Academy, about seven years ago. Back then, like me, the concept of being loved and loving another were foreign to her. In fact, all emotions were foreign to her, nearly non-existent. But as time went on, I watched her change. She was more expressive, and even started to smile. However, she always smiles the brightest when she’s around Claude.” Hilda swears she hears Caspar sniffle, and sees Dorothea swipe a tear off her cheek. “Speaking of Claude...watching him fall in love with Byleth was wonderful. I’m no stranger to faking smiles and forcing laughter. To watch the smile on his face grow more sincere and hear his laugh become more genuine was heartwarming, and it was all due to meeting her.” Marianne picks up the wineglass, holding it up. “I’ve watched them grow individually, and I’ve watched them grow together. To know them as a couple is to know that you are in the presence of something stronger than love. These two have chosen to share their lives with one another, and I for one am excited to see their love change the world.” Marianne folds her paper again and looks at Hilda expectantly, her cheeks pink.. 

“That was so good, Marianne!” Lysithea gushes immediately. 

“It was beautiful,” Dorothea agrees, and Marianne blushes. “You’ve certainly captured their personalities and relationship well.” 

“That was impeccable,” Hilda starts, grabbing Marianne’s hands. “It was perfect. It was poetic. Highly emotional and pure. Drawing on your personal experience? Genius. I give you 5 out of 5 for—”

“Wait a minute,” Lysithea says, rising from her spot and looking between Hilda and Marianne. “It was good, but you are way too biased.” 

Appalled at such an accusation, Hilda drops Marianne’s hands immediately. “How?!” 

“You’re banging one of the contestants,” Sylvain nonchalantly points out, and Hilda wonders if he has a death wish. She’s not ‘banging’ Marianne. They’re in a loving, caring relationship. The audacity—

She’s about to grant his wish when Marianne grips her wrist, her hold surprisingly strong. “He’s right,” she nods, and though Hilda grumbles, she backs off. 

For now. She’ll get him later.

“Alright, I see your point,” she groans, handing Lysithea her notes for the next few challenges. She isn’t interested in arguing with Marianne today.

Lysithea takes the notes, peering down at them. “Hilda? How am I supposed to read this? It’s a mess!” She exclaims, waving the notes in the air. “That’s not the only thing, why in Fódlan is there so much to do?” 

“We could get a second judge,” Hilda suggests looking into the audience for a replacement. “We need someone who isn’t afraid to dish out hard truths and criticism. Someone who isn’t afraid to insult their friends. Someone who-” 

“I’ll do it,” Dorothea volunteers a little too gleefully, shooting up out of her seat. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s judging people.” 

Well...she isn’t wrong. 

Hilda gave the two new judges a quick rundown of the next few challenges, carefully explaining what exactly it was that she was looking for. She was going to make sure that Claude and Byleth got the best possible choices. 

“Alright, let’s hear from the contestants running for Best Man,” Lysithea continues, and Hilda sends a pointed glare at Sylvain, hoping to make him sweat a little. “Sylvain, let’s start with you, you know, before you get sent to the infirmary,” she adds, jabbing a thumb in Felix’s direction, and nodding her head towards Hilda. 

Sylvain, as unbothered as ever, just throws his head back and laughs. He rolls his shoulders a few times before rising out of his seat, taking the glass from Marianne and holding it up. Hilda almost gags when he tilts his head forward, letting his hair fall over his forehead and looking up through his lashes. “Hey. Sylvain Jose Gautier. Claude’s Best Man. Heir to the noble House Gautier, wielder of the Lance of Ruin, the handsomest Dark Knight you’ll ever cross paths with.” Hilda stifles a laugh when she hears Felix start to boo, and Sylvain rolls his eyes. 

“Alright, alright. Let’s see...I first met Claude when he was a 17 year old virgin with a huge crush on his professor.” There are a few gasps from the audience, and Lysithea seems to choke on her own spit. “The man followed her around like a lost puppy. He was absolutely enthralled by her. Goddess, I’ll never forget the day, 14th of the Garland Moon, 1186, I was strolling through the gardens to a certain spot with a lovely lady on my arm for a little...rendezvous, as the Professor would call it. But alas, the spot was already occupied by Claude! I bet you can all guess who he was with. Honestly, I didn’t even know the Professor could bend tha—”

“Okay!” Lysithea interrupts with a nervous laugh. “Sylvain, I think we’ve heard enough out of you.” 

“I was just getting to the best part though!” he whines, stomping his foot a little. “Dorothea, back me up a little,” he begs, looking to the second judge for a little more sympathy.

“Sylvain,” she says, her voice clipped. No sympathy there. “While it was entertaining, your speech can’t be too inappropriate. There will most likely be children present.” Sylvain pouts, but Dorothea is unfazed. “Lysithea, let’s discuss a score while Hilda gets her thoughts together.” 

“Pst,” Hilda whispers, moving to Sylvain’s side. “You’ll tell me the rest later?” She’s still very interested in knowing just how many times the couple have evaded her in the past. 

“Hell yeah,” he replies with a coy smile, and they share a quick high-five before the judges turn around. 

“2.5 out of 5.” Lysithea announces, and Sylvain looks rather pleased with the score.  _ Not hard to beat, _ Hilda thinks. She’s known Claude for way longer than her competition has. “Needs some work. Hilda?”

Hilda takes the glass from Sylvain, jumping right into it. “I’m Claude’s Best Woman, Hilda. I’d just like to start by thanking everyone for coming out to celebrate this very special day with us. The first time I met Claude at the Officer’s Academy, and he was annoying, sneaky, and dramatic.” Her fellow Golden Deer nod in agreement. “Well, now he’s still all those things now, but there are other traits that I did realize he had until he met Byleth— he’s dedicated, hardworking, and most of all, he’s so incredibly caring. She brings out the best in him, and he brings out the best in her. Byleth had always looked like she was lost in some daze, but Claude keeps her grounded. I’m so incredibly happy that she chose our class all those years ago. To watch them both fall in love was interesting. Claude wasn’t as subtle as he thought, and Byleth was so clueless that it  _ hurt _ . Getting them to admit they were together was fun. However, seeing how happy they are together...I think that’s the best part. A toast to the bride and groom.”

“Not bad,” Dorothea nods approvingly, Lysithea giving her a thumbs up. Hilda flashes them the sweetest smile possible. 

“Thank you, judges,” she grins, and catches Sylvain shake his head in the corner of her eye.

“Kiss ass,” he mumbles, and she whirls around to flip him off as subtly as possible. 

Lysithea clears her throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “With Hilda’s speech, the final results are in. For the Maid of Honour category, we have Marianne with a modified 4.5 out of 5. Felix with 3 out of 5. Marianne outscores Felix, so Marianne gets one point.” Hilda squeals, and Marianne blushes furiously. Her competitor simply shrugs. 

“For the Best Man category, we have Hilda in the lead with 4.5 out of 5.” Hilda sticks her tongue out at Sylvain. “Hilda outscores Sylvain’s 2.5 out of 5. Hilda gets one point.” 

Sylvain slams a hand on a nearby table. “I demand a recount!” 

“It’s two points,” Lysithea points out flatly, glaring at him. “Not much to count, hard to mess up.” 

“You boys better step it up in the next category,” Dorothea tells the losers. “Bachelor and bachelorette party planning, key events leading up to the wedding. The last hurrah as an unmarried person. You need to make sure the event is something enjoyable for the bride or groom. It has to fit their tastes, but still be fun for everyone else. You’ll all give our guests here a quick 10 minute bach party experience. You get points on creativity, and fun.” 

Felix stands immediately, stalking off towards the training grounds. “I need swords,” is all he says when Sylvain asks where he’s going.

Oh boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Faerghus, Ingrid's inner idiot radar goes off and she knows Felix and Sylvain are getting into some kind of trouble.


	3. Taking Initiative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The race for Maid of Honour and Best Man continues. 
> 
> or
> 
> Magic + jumpy/angry mages = danger.

**-Party Planning-**

When Hilda imagined going to a bachelorette party, the first thing she thought of was alcohol. The second thing she thought about was dancing. The third thing she thought about was blacking out and not remembering most of it while simultaneously making it the most memorable part of her friend’s unmarried life. 

She couldn’t have imagined  _ this _ .

“So...we chase each other with weaponry?” She repeats, looking around at her equally bewildered friends as Felix finishes his explanation. 

“We  _ sneak up  _ on each other with weaponry,” Felix corrects impatiently, as if those are two different things. “It’s a sort of training that I used to do with Eisner back during the Academy. It helped me with my stealth, and it was…fun. She would like it.” Hilda makes a mental note to not go to Felix to do anything “fun.”

“And you want us to attack each other with wooden weapons while  _ drunk _ ?” Dorothea clarifies beside her. “Felix, are you sure this is what Byleth would want?” 

“Yes,” he answers flatly. “But no one wanted to drink in the middle of the day.” 

“Yeah, that’s the problem with this,” Lysithea scoffs, her eyes narrowing as Felix tosses a training sword at her. “Nobody wants to day drink in the middle of the week.” 

“Your loss,” Felix shrugs, taking a swig from his flask and throwing it at Sylvain, who catches it with ease and takes an even longer swig. “It’s my ten minutes, so you have to do what I say,” he points out, and Hilda groans. Ugh, she didn’t know she would be expected to spar at a bachelorette party. “We split up into two teams, everyone hides, and the last team standing wins. For now, let’s do girls versus boys.” 

Caspar, already drunk and clearly excited about this violent game of hide and seek, runs off immediately, followed by Sylvain and Felix. Sighing dramatically, Hilda picks up a training axe, sauntering off to hide. 

When the ten minutes is over, Hilda, along with many others, is surprised by how much fun she had. The game was surprisingly lighthearted, full of laughter and friendly competition. Frankly, she enjoyed any game where the objective was to kick a man’s ass to win. Especially if that man was Sylvain. 

They’re in the middle of laughing at a passed out Caspar, who’s hopefully laying prone due to the alcohol and not from the shock of thunder he’d received from Dorothea when they hear her. “So that’s where all the equipment went.” Everyone whirls around at the familiar voice, turning to see Byleth standing behind them, an amused expression on her face. “I see this is where the majority of our guests went as well.” 

“Felix was just telling us about a game you used to play in the academy,” Hilda explains, noticing the way Byleth’s eyes seem to brighten at the mention. 

“Ah, Seek and Stab,” she nods, the smile on her face growing wider. Hilda nearly chokes when she hears what their game is actually called.  _ Will they teach their kids this?  _ “Did Felix also tell you how many times he’s lost?” 

Felix makes an offended noise. “I almost had you that one time!” He sputters, waving a training sword at her. 

Byleth actually laughs as he does this, clearly not at all afraid of what they’ve seen Felix do with training swords during tournaments. “I was sleeping. You crawled through my window and woke me up when you fell on and broke my desk chair,” she clarifies, exposing a blushing Felix. 

“Did you need the equipment?” Lysithea asks, finally prying the training axe out of an unconscious Caspar’s grip. 

Byleth shakes her head. “No, Claude and I were simply curious as to why the weapon’s room on the training grounds was so empty.” The bells of the clock tower toll, signalling a new hour, and Byleth sighs wistfully. “I wish I could stay and participate, but I only have a half hour before my next meeting, so I’ll leave you all to it.” She turns to walk away, but pauses, looking over her shoulder. “Try not to hurt yourself, Fraldarius.” 

“Let’s move on!” Hilda suggests, watching as Sylvain grips the back of Felix’s shirt before he can follow Byleth and be arrested for regicide when he takes the game of ‘Seek and Stab’ a little too seriously. “Marianne? What was your bachelorette party idea?” 

__________

  
  


Hilda almost wished she hadn’t asked.

Almost. 

The game started out innocent and simple enough. Marianne asks a question about the bride, and whoever gives a wrong answer takes a drink. Everyone— except the judges— had settled themselves with the idea of having a few sips of whatever alcohol Felix had for the sake of the game. 

What nobody took into account was the fact that after seven years, everyone still knew very little about Byleth. 

In fact when the game was over, Felix and Hilda had tied with one point each. Only two questions out of the 20 that Marianne asked were correctly answered. The other 18 questions… Well, suffice to say everyone was a little drunk. 

“How is everyone even alive?” She asks Dorothea, who is supporting the weight of the drunken Queen of Brigid, who looks like she’s one sip away from passing out.

“Honestly, I’m wondering the same thing,” she grunts when Petra shifts her weight, both of them watching as Lysithea drags Sylvain away from the tree he had been hitting on. “I’m beginning to see why Claude allowed very limited amounts of alcohol whenever there was a special event.” 

Lysithea trudges up to them, dragging a snoozing Caspar behind her by the ankle. “We should move on before Caspar actually dies, and maybe no more alcohol this time?” She huffs, chasing down Sylvain, who’s currently talking to a stray cat about how much he loves his fianceé. “Sylvain, you loser! It’s your turn to share your bachelor party idea!” 

He stands with the cat now lazing in his arms, facing the two judges. “Easy,” he grins, stroking the cat's content head. “My bachelor party idea is a simple one. A classic,” he pauses, looking around at the state of their group. “Okay, I think everyone is drunk enough, so we don’t need any more alcohol…” He looks Lysithea up and down. “Although, I’m not sure you’ll be able to participate.” 

“Why not?” Lysithea bristles, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring up at him. 

“I don’t think they allow sixteen year olds in strip clubs.” 

  
  


__________

  
  


Luckily, Marianne is there to patch Sylvain up after the nasty blow of Dark Spikes T Lysithea launches at him. They don’t bother with his bachelor party idea, given that they’re sure Claude wouldn’t want to go to a strip club. 

That leaves Hilda, who is sure her party would win either way. 

Once everyone has calmed down a little from their drunken highs, she starts the game. “A murder mystery?” Felix repeats, staring at the victim on the ground. Hilda nods, slowly walking around the group. 

“That’s right,” she answers proudly. She’s sure Claude would love this idea. Everything that had ever happened during the academy was one giant mystery to him, and everyone knew he loved a good mystery. “I had a situation thought up, but this broken baby came to my attention when we put away the weapon’s from Felix’s violent game.” She holds up the pieces of the broken axe, squinting at each person. “So, this was the new silver axe that Marianne gave to me,” she explains, and Marianne does not look too impressed that her gift is broken already. “Who broke it?” They all look around at each other, and no one answers. “I’m not mad, I just want to know.” 

Marianne, sensing where this is going, speaks first. “I did it. I broke it,” she says, but Hilda shakes her head. 

“No, you didn’t. Sylvain? Was it you?” She interrogates, and the man looks offended at the accusation.

“Me? No. Don’t look at me, look at Felix! He’s always breaking weapons with that crest of his,” he diverts, pointing a finger at his friend. 

Felix scowls. “What? I didn’t break it,” he says, shooting Sylvain a glare. “I don’t even use axes.” 

“Huh. How’d you know it was broken then?” Sylvain retorts, and Hilda makes a note to get Sylvain’s head looked at. Something must have been knocked loose during that blast. 

“Because it’s sitting in front of us and Hilda said it’s broken,” Felix snaps, and Hilda is glad she’d taken liberty of confiscating his swords.

“I have been seeing Caspar using the axes last,” Petra blurts out. “His training routine is very aggressive.” 

“I only use Killer Axes!” Caspar shouts in defence, and Lysithea struggles to hold him back. 

“Then what were you doing holding her axe this morning?” Dorothea asks, casting him a suspicious stare. “We saw you.” 

“I was looking at my reflection! Everyone knows my hair takes a lot of work to look like this!” He points at the messy mop of blue hair atop his head, and Marianne sighs.

“I broke it, just let me buy you another one, Hilda,” she pleads, but Hilda isn’t budging. This is her ten minutes.

“No. Who broke it?” She asks more forcefully this time. 

“Lysithea has been awfully quiet,” Felix points out, and Hilda swears she sees the little mage’s eyes flash with anger. 

“Oh, really?” She almost shouts, stepping to Felix so she’s an inch away from him, staring up at him menacingly. “Accuse me again and I’ll blast you all the way back to Faerghus.” 

Hilda smiles when he friends start arguing, all of them sure they didn’t break her axe, and very sure that one of the others did. Marianne is trying to break up the tension, but at this point, it’s impossible. 

“Did one of them really break your axe?” Claude asks, and how he managed to sneak up on her, she doesn’t know. 

“No. I did it,” she answers truthfully. “It cut me while I was sharpening it, so I punched it and it broke.” 

Claude laughs loudly at the revelation. “You’re a sly minx, you know. Getting your friends to argue like this,” he gestures to the group, where Caspar and Felix are currently brawling as Sylvain eggs them on. “We fought hard for peace between the three countries, now look what you’ve done.” 

“Eh,” Hilda shrugs, watching as Petra joins the fray. “Peace is a little boring.” 

  
  


__________

  
  
  


**-Crisis Management-**

  
  


“While we still don’t know who broke Hilda’s axe,” Dorothea sighs, looking over their absolute mess of a group. “The show must go on, so we’ll be moving directly into the crisis management part of the competition. It’s also the final part. Thank goodness.” She waves three envelopes in front of them. “It’s part of your jobs as Maid of Honour and Best Man to handle any disasters that might occur on the couple’s special day. There are three scenarios that you must all give us a quick solution for. The first one to raise their hand and give an adequate answer get’s a point. Any questions?” Lysithea is suspiciously absent, but Hilda doesn’t pay it any mind. 

No one has any questions, so Dorothea opens the first envelope. “Ah. For some reason, there aren’t enough chairs for guests during the reception, and three are left standing. What do you do?” Felix raises his hand first. “Felix?”

“Get rid of three of them,” he answers, and Dorothea shakes her head. Hilda doesn’t even want to know exactly he means by that. 

“No. You can’t just make them leave. Any other suggestions?” Marianne raises her hand next. “Marianne?”

“Find three chairs!” It’s good to see one of them thinks with some sense. 

“Excellent,” Dorothea claps, and the smile on Marianne’s face makes Hilda’s heart beat a little faster. “You get one point. Let’s move on to the second question.” She opens the second envelope. “Hm. A drunk relative makes a scene during the ceremony. What do you do?” She nudges Caspar (who looks like the day’s activities have taken a toll on him) forward. He catches the hint, holding up a pretend glass and stumbling forward, commencing a pretend drunken ramble. 

“I remember when Claude was—” He doesn’t get to finish because he’s cut off by Hilda, who tackles and pins him to the ground.

“Very good! Extra half point for quick thinking and taking initiative,” Dorothea cheers, and Sylvain sputters in disbelief. 

“She just caused a scene in the middle of the ceremony!” He argues, waving to the now definitely unconscious Caspar. 

“At least I did something, pretty boy,” Hilda winks, receiving high-fives from Marianne and Felix. 

“Don’t worry, Sylvain, you can prove yourself with this next one,” she assures him. Everyone, even Felix, watches with heavy anticipation as she tears open the final envelope, reading out it’s contents. “Nemesis and his Elites crash the ceremony. What do you do?” 

“Wait a minute,” Hilda says abruptly. “We killed him, that’s impossible.” If she closed her eyes, she could quite vividly recall the moment she struck down her ancestor, Goneril. The battle between Claude and Byleth against the undead Nemesis was still quite fresh in her mind.

“Yeah, well, Rhea thought the same thing, didn’t she?” Dorothea points out. 

Touché.

“Bold of you to assume Eisner wouldn’t take care of it herself,” Felix scoffs. “She’ll probably have her sword hidden at the altar.” 

“Yeah, I’d let her handle it,” Hilda agrees. Fighting Nemesis and his goons again? No thanks. Once was enough.

Dorothea pinches the bridge of her nose. “Byleth isn’t there.” 

“Okay, then I ask Claude,” Hilda shrugs. She thinks it’s strange that they wouldn’t be there for their own ceremony, but the situation is hypothetical.

Inhaling deeply, Dorothea rolls her eyes. “He’s not there either.” 

“Where are they?” Sylvain jumps in, and they both look at the judge expectantly. “It’s their wedding.”

“Not important, he’s just not there,” she tells him.

“Are they dead? Did Nemesis kill them?” Hilda questions, confused by the vague nature of this crisis.

“No, they’re fine,” Dorothea replies, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“Then I don’t see why they can’t help us,” Felix points out, and for a moment, Dorothea looks like she’s ready to blast them all to Almyra.

Everyone freezes when they hear rustling in the hedges behind them. Felix immediately draws his sword, Sylvain grabs a nearby rake, and Hilda hides behind Marianne, whose hands are glowing with magic.

“What?” She growls when Felix shoots her a look. “One of you broke my axe.” 

A very large and glowing purple figure shoots out of the hedges. 

“N—Nemesis?!” Marianne cries, the rest of the wearing equally bewildered expressions. 

Dorothea is suspiciously calm. 

Before anyone can do anything, Marianne’s hands glow brighter than Hilda has ever seen, and a blast of Aura forms around the figure. 

“Wait!” They hear Lysithea cry from somewhere in the distance. “It’s Raphael! Marianne, stop!” 

It’s too late though, because Marianne’s spell already engulfs half the garden.

Hilda is having an odd flashback.  _ Not again. _

__________

The King of Almyra and the Queen of Fódlan stand in front of the soot covered group. The only sounds are the occasional cough and Claude’s boot impatiently tapping the ground. “Do I even want to know why the garden was blown up today?” He questions, and Byleth tilts her head as she peers at them. Her impassive gaze still makes Hilda uneasy. 

“I assume you were the ring leader again?” Byleth guesses, and Hilda is shocked at such an accusation.

“It was to choose your bridal party!” Dorothea cuts in, and Hilda nods in agreement. Sure, it may have started as her idea, but blowing up the garden was not part of the plan. 

Claude opens his mouth to yell at them, but Byleth places a hand on his chest, and he immediately closes it. “We can worry about the gardens later.” She fixes her gaze on Dorothea. “Who did you choose?” 

Lysithea steps forward, handing them two sheets of paper. “Here. We’ve compiled a list of their strengths and weaknesses for you to base your decision off of. The choice is ultimately yours.” 

Hilda feels her palms start to sweat as they take the lists, studying their contents intently. They discuss quietly amongst themselves, nodding and shaking their heads. Hilda wants them to just decide already. She’s almost surprised by how much she wants this.

Claude comes to a conclusion first. “I’ve decided that my Best Man will be…” He looks between her and Sylvain. Hilda holds her breath. “Hilda, will you be my Best Woman?” 

“Yes!” She cries, running and throwing her arms around him. “A million times yes, Claude!” 

Sylvain groans, and Claude shoots him an apologetic glance. “Sorry, man. It was close but—”

“Then I demand a recount!” Sylvain protests.

“Actually, it wasn’t that close,” Claude admits as Hilda skips back over to him. “Don’t worry. You’ll be one of my groomsmen.” 

Sylvain lightens up at the notion. “All play and no work? That’s even better than Best Man,” he exclaims, and Hilda sticks her tongue out at him.

Everyone turns to Byleth next, who carefully tucks the sheets away in her cloak before turning to Felix and Marianne. “I appreciate the efforts that both of you put into this competition, but unfortunately, there can only be one Maid of Honour.” Byleth blinks at them both a couple of times. “Felix, will you be my Maid of Honour?” 

Felix turns bright red from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears. Marianne honestly looks a little relieved, clearly glad to not have the pressure of the most important role in the bride’s party. “I—I guess,” Felix sighs, and everyone is surprised when Byleth tentatively reaches out and wraps her arms around him.

Everyone is even more surprised when he actually hugs her back. 

Maybe Felix ‘love is weakness’ Fraldarius needs a new nickname.

They stand in a sweet looking embrace until Claude clears his throat, narrowing his eyes at Felix when they pull apart. “Marianne, I’d like you to be one of my bridesmaids,” Byleth adds, hugging Marianne next.

“We’ll be making the rest of our decisions later this week,” Claude tells Hilda, who, now on top of official wedding planner, is Best Woman. 

A week ago, she went from having an absolute wealth of free time to who she assumed was going to be the most stressed person in all of Fódlan. 

Isn’t it funny how life works?

  
**_DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING:_ ** _ 96 _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! 
> 
> While I do not intend to give up on this series AT ALL. I think I'm going to take about two weeks off from it to get out a few chapters of a modern claudeleth AU I've been sitting on for a while. 
> 
> I've been doing this series for nearly a month now, and I love it with all my heart, but I want to put up something a little new and fresh for you all! I'm sure you'll love it just as much. At least I hope you do! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and enjoying these fics with me. Each comment makes my day a little brighter, and makes me so excited to post each new chapter for you. 
> 
> All my flipping love,  
> Abby


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